


Cirque de Miraculous

by KitKatWitch



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, First Meetings, Inspired by The Night Circus, Other, Slow Build, dont really know what im doing, more tags will be added as I go, no miraculous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7755922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitKatWitch/pseuds/KitKatWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cirque de Miraculous is the most popular attraction in Paris, only made more popular by the mysterious acrobat by the stage name of Ladybug. No one knows that she's really the seamstress Marinette, living a double life under the tent. But soon she won't be alone in her anonymity; a black cat is prowling behind the curtains, and she's more intrigued by him than she cares to admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Curtains Up

_Un . . . deux . . . trois . . ._

_Breathe._

The lights in the tent reignited like magic as she held her pose, all the attention directed up to the woman on the high wire. Her dark hair was twisted into two buns on the top of her head, with red chopsticks to hold them in place. The outfit was a simple strapless bodice with a flared skirt, tulle embellishing the design and shaping it neatly like a bubble, brightest red and dark black spots with obsidian sequins to draw the light. Two half ovals on her back of a stiff red tulle resembled wings, and a spotted mask hid her features. Not that she could be recognized at this distance.

Up on the high wire, Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood, all the eyes of the crowd on her. But now she was not Marinette, the quiet seamstress of the _cirque_. Now she was _Ladybug_ , brilliant trapeze artist and high wire extraordinaire.  And despite the minor changes to her physical appearance, no one caught on, aside from her mother. Not even anyone in the _cirque_ itself.

Not the magician Lila, known as Volpina to the audience; but that was hardly a surprise as she despised the bug for taking her spot in the main ring. Not the clowns Alix and Kim, who were always kind to her in either form she wore. Not Rose or Juleka, the makeup and hair stylists, nor their book manager Max or the special effects and music manager Nino.

Not even the ringmaster Alya, her best friend from childhood, who had really brought the revolution of circuses back to France. At the young age of only twenty, Alya Cesaire had founded and turned _Cirque de Miraculous_ into a rousing success. A success which became all the greater when the mysterious Ladybug joined the troupe one year later.  At least, as far as anyone knew.

The truth was Marinette had founded it with Alya, from the sidelines. She was the maker of the costumes for every act, from the tight fox dress Lila wore during her performance to the flame resistant cowls the fire eaters wore. She even spent most of her _college_ years sewing the tent together. That had been a bit hard to keep a secret, but luckily her parent’s bakery basement was big enough for the storage.

And then one day, just when the first crisp wind knocked the browning leaves of autumn from the trees, the tent went up. No fanfaire, no announcements, just a tent appearing in a field outside the city of Paris. The mayor had worked it out with Alya and managed to keep it from being public knowledge, but the cirque was set up on a temporary basis.

It wasn’t long before it became one of the most popular attractions in Paris, for both the people living there as well as tourists. It became known far and wide and drew hundreds of people to their performances every weekend evening, Thursday through Sunday. Once it was clear that this was something that was going to become concrete, the land was sold to the progressive girl permanently, and _Cirque de Miraculous_ had a grand celebration to show they were staying.

It was about this time that Alya asked Marinette to come in as a co-owner. The two of them would manage most of the acts, though they let Max handle the heavy accounting, and while Alya was the face of the cirque, Marinette was the heart. She was kind to everyone who came through, sewed the costumes and helped where she could. Her parents baked fresh pastries to be sold between acts, and of course there were plenty to be shared behind the curtains. It was easy for them to run their bakery during the day, and close on the weekends to supply the cirque with the baked goods it needed.

It was hard to believe two years had passed since the start of their venture. Marinette had made quite a name for herself in that time, and Ladybug had as well in only half. Many of the performers wore her fashions in their day to day lives, and she hoped it would one day turn into her own fashion line. But then again, she didn’t want to leave the circus anytime soon.

Swallowing hard, she let her sapphire eyes roam over the audience, beaming down at them from her perch high above. The tightrope was only one of her many acts, which ranged from trapeze and aerial acrobatics to contorting herself through elegant silks. But right now she was focused on moving her body from one end to the other, and keeping the audience’s attention through the act.

_Un . . . deux . . . trois . . ._

_Breathe._

Her foot slid forward as the first light notes of the band began to play, toes wrapping around the thin steel rope to hold her balance. Arms together, above her head, falling forward as the music softened, gripping the wire with her hands. Slowly her back leg lifted into the air, bending to a perfect right angle at her knee, before she pushed up with the back leg and was supporting herself with her arms.

The audience hushed, and she knew that anyone who hadn’t been paying attention before was watching her now. Her mother had taught her how to balance from the time she could learn to walk – the moment she debuted as Ladybug, her moves had given her away. Her mother scolded her for doing something so dangerous…and then cried because of how proud she was.

Ladybug didn’t even falter as she continued to tilt her hips forward, leaning her heels over her head and landing them on the wire in front of her. She was completely backwards, now, and with an arched back she moved to straighten up. Once vertical again, she spread her arms wide and allowed the audience to applaud wildly.

But there was still so much wire to go. She stretched out her toe, this time hovering above the line, and did a little hop. For one heart stopping moment she was airborne, with nothing tethering her to anything solid. These were the moments she lived for; where she truly felt as if she could fly.

And then she landed again, did a quick little spin to restore her equilibrium, and posed. The crowd was even louder than before, and she savored the moment to catch her breath. No matter how many times she performed, it still filled her with as much trepidation as exhilaration. She flat out refused to have nets beneath her, despite the protestations of all of her cast. Surprisingly, her mother nodded and said nothing, a twinkle in her eye.

Even though there was no net, she knew two of the cast were waiting in the wings if the worst should happen. But a year into her performances, and she hadn’t faltered once. A streak she refused to break today. The applause faded under the music once again, and she began to move.

Bends, twirls, bounces, and only a few glides stood between her and the other end. With a twist she put her arms above her head and fell to the side, eliciting shocked gasps from the audience. But her hands grabbed the wire in passing and she spun around, making a perfect loop under the tightrope before landing once again on top. This time she didn’t pause for the clapping, instead continuing across.

It felt like ages before she reached the other side, but at the same time before she knew it her feet were touching down on wood, and the crowd erupted while she grinned and bowed above them. Her breath was coming in short bursts as she finally let her shoulders relax, taking a moment to soak in the appreciation before her exit.  She wrapped her hand around a small metal bar, hooking it through the soft leather strap, and gave a final wave before the bar moved and whisked her through the air, depositing her just out of sight so she could duck back into behind the scenes.

Resting her back against the soft curtain of the changing area, she blinked in surprise as the small room filled with applause of its own. “That was _amazing_ , girl!” Alya said with a grin, clapping Ladybug on the shoulder on her way out the door. “Time to close the show; stick around so we can talk after yeah?” The headmaster winked as the curtain closed behind her, and the acrobat shook her head with a smile. That interview would never come; it held too much risk.

Ladybug took a brisk step towards the spare room in the back, where she could shed her wings and slip out unnoticed, but she was stopped by a shock of red hair. Nathanael. “That was _wonderful_ ,” the artist complimented, causing her to blush softly. He had a crush on Marinette for a long time, but they were just friends. Apparently he had moved on to her alter ego unknowingly.

“Thank you, Nathanael,” she said sweetly, clasping her hands in front of her. His eyes lit up when she spoke his name, and her heart clenched. He certainly was adorable, but she could never bring herself to feel more than sibling love for him. With a wave of her hand she moved again, smiling at the others as she slipped into the back room.

Her hand fumbled behind her to tie the curtain shut, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Blue eyes opening, she tracked across the room until she saw the chest in the corner. Ladybug patterned, and with a small lock. She tapped the chest open with her foot, then slowly began to remove her persona.

The shoes went first, along with her patterned stockings. Next the tutu itself, followed by the shift she wore underneath to cover herself and the light pink gloves. Her wings were last, placed on top like a gossamer shield over her hidden life. The dark red chopsticks that held her hair were tucked into a small pocket on the inside of the chest – they had been passed down through her mother’s line for centuries, and she wouldn’t trade anything in the world for them.

The lid shut with a click, and she locked it using the small golden key she wore on a chain under her clothes. It was only another minute or two before she was fully dressed her hair now in soft waves around her shoulders. She smiled down at the chest, placing a hand on it gently before pulling out the tie and sidling out the back before she could be noticed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng entered again through the back flap of the tent, and was seated at her sewing desk before anyone even noticed. The crowd could be heard applauding at the grand finale, and she busied herself with a swatch of fire red for the flame eaters’ new outfits. The applause faded and people began filing out, and she smiled warmly at her second family returning from their performance.

Of course they were her family. They all got along like family, after all, joking and teasing each other about the performances and hanging out afterwards. They began returning to civilian clothes around the room, and a few asked her for quick patch ups before folding their costumes for the night. Laundry would be done after the last performance Sunday, so for now they just stored them in closets.

Marinette began folding up her work for the day when Alya came by, a hand on her hips and a pout on her lips. “Ladybug bailed again,” she lamented, falling dramatically across the sewing table. Mari sighed and gave her a half smile, patting her shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry, Alya. I’m sure Ladybug will have time for you sooner or later.” Alya blew a puff of air through her lips, but smiled up at her dark haired friend. They both knew that the chase was half of the fun. Standing up, the headmaster waited until Marinette had cleaned up her table before they clicked off the lights and closed the cirque for another day.

The wind chilled them as they walked down the quiet streets surrounding their tent, kicking at a discarded crisp bag that floated away. (Marinette picked it up and threw it out). Alya was talking about the night, lingering a bit too long on how incredible Ladybug had been, and Marinette had to contribute a little bit to convince the woman that she had also been watching.

Truthfully, her mind was going over the performance. It was never the same twice, but certain acts were mixed around to make her full routine. She knew she had faltered just a little when she tilted off the wire, and she had to shape up or it could be a fatal mistake.

“Marinette?” The seamstress shook her head, realizing Alya had been speaking to her. “Hm? Oh, I’m sorry Alya, I was thinking about a new pattern for a fall ensemble. What were you asking me?” The auburn haired woman sighed dramatically, but smiled. She knew her friend could lose herself in her sewing.

“I _said_ there was a weird note today in the back,” she repeated in a softer voice. Marinette’s eyes fell to where Alya was pulling a note out of her pocket, and she took it with hands that were inexplicably trembling. Perhaps it was the cold.

She glanced at the note, admiring the elegant handwriting and the simple piece of paper that it was printed on. Words looped fancifully around the page, almost looking as if it was written by a quill. The note was signed with a black pawprint, four pawpads plus the center, and the tips were given nails of neon green.

_“Stunning as always, mademoiselles. I can only dream of joining your entourage.”_

She flipped over the card, frowning at the fact that that had been everything. “No name?” she asked aloud, more to herself than Alya, but her friend shook her head and decided to answer anyway.

“Nope,” she said with a shrug. “But it’s exciting, isn’t it? A black cat interested in joining us? I wonder who it could be? I wonder what his _act_ would be!” Alya began babbling again, and Marinette giggled and began tuning it out. But she couldn’t deny that the same thought was on her mind as she glanced down at the paper in her hand.

“Who are you, _Chat Noir_ …?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter! I'm so glad to have finally gotten this down. I have most of it in my head so far, but I'm still off on a few points, so any suggestions would be greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Follow me at tumblr @batterwitch and feel free to hit me up with any comments! Feedback is well adored ♥


	2. Chat Noir

It’s been three days since Adrien left the note.

Three days since he donned a cheap Halloween cloak, slipped backstage, and left the elegant black cat note on the floor of the backroom. He had slipped back out before anyone noticed him; after all, it was during the final act. Something he normally hated to miss, but this was just more important. Why, he wasn’t sure; he didn’t honestly know if he would ever get the guts up to do anything about it.

Sighing heavily, he pushed the remains of his meal around on his plate, glancing for the fifth time in as many minutes up at the clock on the wall. _5:35._ Cirque’s performance was early on Sunday, so that people can still come even if they work early the next day, or have school. Of course, Adrien had neither of those things. Not anymore.

School had ended; he had a degree in elementary education, because he had been allowed to do what he wanted. But he still was stuck in his father’s fashion empire as a model. He still wouldn’t consider that work, since he just had to ‘stand there and look pretty’, as he was often told by the photographers. He didn’t hate it, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t consider it work. It was just a way for him to spend time with his father. Not that his father was ever around for the shoots.

He spent more time with Nathalie, since she was the one who organized all the photoshoots. And the Gorilla, who took him there and back. But as always, once he was back in the giant house, he was alone. No one to talk to, no one to tell him to do something. And no one to stop him from leaving.

Because every weekend night, Thursday through Sunday, 8pm (6pm on Sundays), he could be found at the Cirque. He got there early, when he could, and always managed to get a seat near the front. The venue wasn’t terribly large, so all seats had a good view, but nothing satisfied like the very front. Where the audience could be blocked out, and you felt like you were a part of the show.

For some reason, he was never recognized, even though he didn’t do anything special to hide his face. It just seemed that everyone’s attention was so raptly attuned to the show, that they never noticed who was sitting right next to them. A small blessing for which he was thankful. He didn’t need more attention.

Though…sometimes he thought it wouldn’t be too bad. Everyone in Paris goes to the cirque, so if he was seen there, it could only give it further credentials. A small smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he knocked a Brussel sprout off the table, watching his black cat Plagg bat at it curiously. Cirque could certainly hold its own, with or without his support.

But that didn’t stop him from going every night. Because this was one place where he felt at home. More so than his big empty house, anyway. He would go as soon as he could, which was easy as he never had any night shoots and homework was a thing of the past. He sat right in the front, and from the moment the lights dimmed, he was enthralled.

He couldn’t pick a favorite act if he was asked. The fire dancers were enchanting, moving the flames as if they were an extension of themselves. The magician Volpina commanded the attention of everyone in the room, and her illusions were so convincing he felt he could reach out and touch one. The clowns made him laugh, the escape artist made him gasp, and everyone made him feel like he was part of the cirque.

And then there was Ladybug. _Oh_. He had been going to the cirque almost since it opened, but he had been absolutely addicted since the beautiful trapeze artist graced their dusty stage. She had appeared out of the air, no announcement, no sign, not even a name on the brochure. But it wasn’t long before her name was _everywhere_.

On posters, on billboards (replacing his own which was a breath of fresh air), even the Cirque website had it’s own page dedicated to her. It wasn’t exactly full of information, since it seems even the ringmaster hasn’t been able to interview her. Her life was a mystery, one that had Adrien eager to unravel.

Since Ladybug had joined the troupe, his photoshoots had seemed a bit easier. If he couldn’t get the right expression, all he had to do was think of her performance at the Cirque, and the smile on his face was exactly what the photographer was looking for. He knew it was silly, but it worked.

Ladybug was the one that had compelled him to write that note. Not in so many words, so much as her actions. No one knew who the mysterious beauty was, where she came from, _why_ she does what she does. The anonymity was intoxicating, and Adrien yearned to have some of that for himself. Every day of his life almost since birth was scripted. He wanted to soar through the air like her. He wanted to have people cheering for his talents, not just his face.

He wanted to be free.

And so he had found a cloak from the last Halloween party he had attended in Lycee, wrote out the little card time and time again until it was perfect, and attended the Thursday night performance. During the final act (which Ladybug never attended), he slipped backstage, plopped his note down in the middle of the blank floor, and disappeared.

He checked the Cirque site the next day, and was only slightly disappointed when there was no news of his note. Did they even find it? He shook his blonde head, brushing the thought aside. Of course they saw it. They probably just didn’t know what to make of it yet. Which was fair, considering he didn’t know what to make of it yet, either.

There was risk to it, but that was exciting to him, not a deterrent. More was that he wouldn’t be accepted into their ranks. But they seemed like such a close group, and so kind, he didn’t doubt that they would accept him. Even not knowing who he really was.

But then what would he do? He had plenty of skills from his years of fencing competitively, but that wasn’t something he could perform alone. He was also very flexible and light on his feet, but he couldn’t barge in on Ladybug’s territory. It was _her_ show; he just wanted to be a part of it.

Another Brussel sprout went over the edge of the table and he sighed again, pushing the plate away. He couldn’t do _anything_ regarding the Cirque until he had an idea of what he could do. His forehead slipped to the table and he groaned against the wood. What talent did he have besides his looks?

There was a slight tug on his pant sleeve, and he lifted his head slightly to peer over the edge of the table. Plagg sat there, looking as unamused as ever, his green eyes sparkling as if he knew what Adrien was thinking. Sticking his paw out, he batted at one of the Brussel sprouts, through the legs of the table and right to Adrien’s foot.

Brows pulling together in thought, the model reached down and picked up his cat, who allowed the movement. "Plagg," he asked, causing a twitch of the cat’s silken ear. Adrien smiled slowly, an idea forming. "Would you like to run away and join the circus?"

 

* * *

　

It’s been a week since he placed his note backstage. Since he took Plagg’s paw, dipped it in black ink, and marked the paper with what he could consider their joint signature. Since he made a decision that could change his life.

But it’s only been five days since he realized he could actually do this. Maybe he wouldn’t have an act himself, not yet, but he did have ideas. Ideas that involved him, and to a lesser extent Plagg, and the rest of the ensemble. He wrote another note, marked it with the paw, brushed on the neon green nails, and headed off to the cirque.

Entering through the wrought iron fence, he felt himself exhale a breath he didn’t realize he was constantly holding. The smell of popcorn and pastries mixed with the crisp fall air, and he let his feet carry him to the closest stand. The Dupain-Chengs were at the front, and they gave him a warm smile as they saw him approach. His father (Nathalie) ordered pastries and cakes from them for their company’s big events, and they were the best patisserie in Paris. They were also the only ones to recognize him at the cirque.

"Hello again, Adrien," Sabine greeted him warmly as he approached the stand, hands in his pocket as he fished around for his wallet. "Don’t you ever tire of seeing the same show?" She meant to sound curious, but her voice had a playful tone.

Laughing, Adrien met her eyes. "The show is never the same," he said honestly, earning a smile in return. Green eyes moving to the rows of pastries, he tapped the glass over top one with black and red icing. "That one, please."

Sabine put it in a small bag, handing it to him and pushing his other hand away with the money. Before he could protest, she tutted, "You buy a ticket four days a week to see the Cirque. To charge you for this would be silly." He thanked her eagerly, giving her a wave before going into the tent. He thought he heard her say something to her husband with the words ‘introduce to Marinette’, but it didn’t register in his mind as he saw the circus open before him.

Instantly he felt at ease, his model life far behind him. At least for a few hours he could feel like himself. Taking a seat near the front row, he patted his pocket for the note, and checked to make sure the cape was tucked up under his jacket.

The show was as beautiful as ever, though he couldn’t help but notice Volpina’s act was lackluster. He supposed that was a side effect of seeing the show every single day; he could notice things most people didn’t see. But he didn’t concern himself over it; she had never been his favorite act.

That title was reserved for the lovely lady in red currently descending from the top of the tent, wrapped in scarlet and black silks. Everyone gasped as they saw her coming down, wondering just how long she had been waiting up there. But Adrien knew. He saw her go up behind a tapestry with a pulley system, unseen to all. All except the person who had been watching for her all night.

Ladybug wasn’t in the same outfit she wore for her tightrope act; the puffiness and wings would only hinder her. Instead, she wore a bodysuit, mostly red with black swirls and spots, and a thick red swathe of fabric tied around her neck like a scarf. It billowed out behind her, and when she spun from the silks, it fluttered like wings. Her hair was in one bun this time, but the chopsticks remained, as did her mask.

With an ease of a bird she flew around the tent, nothing tethering her aside from the silk wrapped around her forearms. How she managed to do this so elegantly he would never understand, but he found that he didn’t want to. It was much more enthralling to watch her twist and fly through the air as if she were born to do so.

She wrapped herself in the silks, returning to the top of the ceiling, but she was not finished. Instead she dropped, unraveling at a frightening speed and tumbling down towards the ground. At the last instant she stopped her descent, lightly touching her toes to the ground and disengaging herself from the silks. The crowd erupted as she bowed, and Adrien felt his heart swell. _She is amazing._

Before he knew it, she had disappeared again, and the rest of the troupe was coming out. Startled to realize the show had reached its end already, he quickly brushed past the rest of the seats and made his way out of the tent.

Once exposed to the chilly fall air, he whipped the cloak out and covered himself, making sure none saw who was beneath it. Finding his card, he traced the words with his finger before moving around the backside of the tent. It was easy to find the slit used for the troupe, and he slipped inside before he was seen. Not that there was anyone back there to see him.

Glancing inside, he took a few steps forward, peering around to decide where he would leave his note. There was a small box off to the side, with the name _Alya Cesaire_ written in cursive on a piece of tape next to it. He figured the ringmaster was as good a person as any. Placing it right on top of what he determined to be a hat box, he was about to turn away when he met bright bluebell eyes and froze.

_Ladybug_. Her outfit was intact; apparently he had come in before she had a chance to disrobe. Her red lips were open in a little _o_ , and he realized she must have seen the previous note. Instinctively he ducked his head, pulling the hood up and hoping he hadn’t been recognized. It didn’t seem like Ladybug had seen more than his green eyes.

He turned quickly and ran through the slit, almost turning back when he heard her call, "W-wait!". He glanced briefly, seeing her one hand holding the card and the other reaching towards him, a look of confusion and…something else, on her face. But he continued, immediately ducking behind a tree and looking to see if he had been followed.

Ladybug had stepped out into the cold, her scarf blowing in the breeze and causing her to shiver. Glancing both ways, Adrien let out a soft breath when she didn’t see him. Instead she let her gloved hand move over the card, her lips moving with the words that were engraved upon it.

Sunday’s performance will be my debut.

Adrien watched her, and after another look around, Ladybug returned into the tent. And maybe Adrien was imagining it, but there seemed to be a small smile on her lips. Finding it reflected on his own face, the model ran home, a spring in his step.

 

* * *

　

Once home, Adrien went directly up to his room and shut the door. Scratching Plagg on the ear and earning a soft mewl in response, he rested on his bed, closing his eyes and soaking in the night.

The performances had been wonderful. He placed his note, giving him two more days to get ready. And he _met Ladybug_. Well, sort of. Hopefully she hadn’t recognized him as Adrien, and will only know him as his stage persona. Which, he realized, he didn’t have a name for as of yet.

A soft grunt passed his lips as Plagg climbed on top of his stomach, and started pawing at his phone. The little LED indicator lit up, and he frowned. He hadn’t texted anyone first. When he opened it, however, his heart stopped in his chest when he saw it was an alert from the Cirque website.

Hands shaking (excitement or nerves, he couldn’t tell which), he opened the page and read down the newly posted article.

 

_Who is Chat Noir?_

_Last week, we received a mysterious note indicating that someone was interested in joining our troupe. They left no name, but it was signed with a black pawprint. It was a first for our Cirque, but we had no leads or any way to follow up, so unfortunately we had to leave it up to them. It is no doubt of mine that he was inspired by our own mysterious Ladybug, also wishing to keep himself silent._

_The reason I say_ he _is because there was another note left today. This time, not quite as anonymously._

Adrien swallowed thickly. Had he been caught before he could even begin?

_Our miraculous Ladybug saw the note being left. While she didn’t see their face (_ Adrien released the breath he had been holding), _she could tell it was a male around our age. "His eyes were like emeralds," she recalls. However, she would say no more on the subject, face turning red and ducking back into her changing room._

_Who is this mysterious Chat Noir? All we know is that he has left us two notes, and the most recent one indicates that he will be part of our show on Sunday._

_Join us as we embark upon this mystery, at Sunday’s show, 6pm._

_See you there!_

_~Alya_

 

Adrien laid back on his bed, staring up at his blank ceiling above and feeling a soft blush creep across his face. _His eyes were like emeralds_ , she had said. About _him_. After a moment of staring, he couldn’t help the excited bounce he gave, Plagg grumbling as he flew onto the bed from his comfy perch on Adrien’s stomach.

They _liked_ him. They were _intrigued_ , and by the way Alya wrote this, it sounded like he would be a part of the show Sunday. He had two more days to prepare. Thankfully, he already had most of his outfit together, which he eyed on the other side of the room. He didn’t anticipate on getting his own act right off the bat anyway.

He hummed thoughtfully, scratching Plagg under his chin. "Chat Noir, huh?" he said with a grin. "I like the sound of that."

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sneaks in a Ladrien moment*
> 
> YES HELLO I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD. I moved in with my boyfriend and we own a house now so things have been crazy, but we'll see if I can start updating this again.
> 
> Comments and suggestions highly appreciated :3 You want anything seen? Let me know! 
> 
> ((if anyone knows where I got the idea for the Tapestry Pulley trick, ill love you forever))


	3. Crystallize

That Sunday performance was one of the most packed shows Marinette had ever seen.

As soon as she had watched Alya hit _post_ on the website, the comments and views shot through the roof. Apparently something so new and mysterious was just what the circus crowd was looking for. She could hardly believe everyone would be so interested in someone they knew nothing about.

Of course, when she voiced that, Alya kindly pointed out that Ladybug had been a part of their troupe for a year now, and barely anyone had known about her, either. Marinette laughed, knocking on her head and passing the blush off as just being empty headed.

Of course it was the same thing. Mysterious person coming into the cirque without any notice (well, _slight_ notice on Chat’s part), no information on their real identity, no wonder people were hooked. At the time, she had wondered if he would become as popular as Ladybug. Not that she was jealous, quite the opposite; it would be nice to share a little bit of the limelight.

More she was worried what it would do to bring someone new into their tight knit family. Though, back to Ladybug, she wasn’t exactly part of the family either. Disappearing and reappearing in time for the shows, she was more of a mystery than anyone. Marinette wasn’t sure if that made her sad or not.

But she couldn’t get that worried over Chat. The excitement of having a new performer was electric, and it was all the cast had been talking about over the last three performances. The only person who didn’t seem all that interested was Lila.

"Just another stray trying to steal my spotlight," she spat. Everyone had rolled their eyes at that. ‘Volpina’ had been the most recent act before Ladybug, and her talent was amazing. Her attitude, however, could use some work. Still, she was part of the family, and she had her moments. This just wasn’t one of them.

Nathanael had come in the next performance with a large folding poster to place at the front of the gates. Marinette paused every time she entered the cirque to look at it. While they didn’t know much about this mysterious figure, Nathanael had done an incredible job with the advertisement.

The poster was solid black, with the words _Chat Noir_ written in white elegant script at the top. A tail curved with a green outline, and two ears were outlined as well. Besides that, the only other features were a brilliant white smile, and deep green eyes.

It was there where Marinette found herself before the Sunday performance, staring at those eyes in wonder. Nathanael hadn’t even seen the man, and yet the eyes were almost _perfect_. He had taken some artistic liberties and made the pupils more cat-like, slits rather than circles, but aside from that the shade was perfect.

 _Well_ , she reminded herself with a blush, _you did describe them quite eloquently._ Shaking her head, she went to visit her parents before going to find herself a seat.

Her mother saw her coming immediately, but the line was too long to do much more than wave her around to the back of the stand. Their pastries were famous through most of Paris, and everyone wanted one before the show started. Once around back, she opened the wooden door and went in to the small kitchen.

It had been built up almost as soon as the land became circus property, due to the fact that the original performances had them selling out faster than they could put them on the counters. Now they could make dozens of pastries as they sold out, and kept the store stocked with things from their home bakery. They had run out of flour on more than one occasion.

At the moment her father was pulling a fresh tray of their newest treat, chocolate cookies shaped like cats with sparkling sugar eyes. She supposed she had Ladybug to blame for that, as well. Her father put the tray down as quickly as was safe, and then lifted her into a crushing hug.

" _Ma chèrie!_ " Tom cheered, causing Marinette to laugh as she was twirled around in the tiny space. "This is too much! I have never seen so many people at one performance before! Well, except for the second performance of Ladybug, but no one can compete with her." He grinned, and once again Marinette found herself wondering how much he knew. Her mom said she hadn’t told him, but she wasn’t sure if she could be believed. She cast a glance over to her mother, but Sabine was too busy and probably hadn’t heard them anyway.

"I know," she said instead, letting her excitement bubble over. "Everyone in the troupe is so excited. And I don’t have anything I need to help with backstage, so I get to watch the whole show!" _Well, most of it_ , she amended in her mind. There was one act she would never be able to see live.

Tom quickly plopped a few of the fresh cookies into a pastry bag and handed them to her, kissing her cheek before sending her back out so they could get back to work. She waved to her mother again, then entered the tent with a wave to the ticket taker, Rose. A slip through the back and she left a cookie right next to the blonde, causing a little noise of excitement. With a grin she went back to the audience benches.

Glancing around, she nibbled her lip as she tried to decide where to sit. She needed a seat where she would be able to see, but also would be able to slip out relatively unnoticed and without disturbing too many people. Normally she could pick a seat up front to a side, but she had never seen the crowd so packed together. In the end she found a low bench all the way to the side, partially behind a curtain. She could see, but it involved a little bit of leaning.

Pulling out a cookie, she bit the ear and sighed as it melted into her mouth, blessing once more the fact that she had been born into a baking family. Glancing around, she was surprised to see a lot of the crowd was wearing little things for Chat: black cat ears, green and black clothes, and even a collar on a few of them. That made her snort; who knew if Chat would wear a collar?

With a glance around the room, she noticed that it was almost all black and green shining back at her. Hopefully the cat didn’t have an ego, or else he would be as bad as Lila. _Though_ , she mused to herself _, we still kept Lila. I hope Chat can prove himself._

"I think he’ll work out," a voice next to her said, and she started when she realized she had said that last bit outloud. Turning to the voice, her jaw fell as she noticed Alya sitting next to her. "Ooh, are those the new Chat cookies your parents made?" the girl cooed, picking one up and biting one eagerly.

"Alya!?" Marinette hissed, checking down at her watch. It was five minutes to show time. "What are you doing here? You have to get back stage and into your outfit, otherwise we won’t be able to open the show!" Alya chewed more slowly, but other than that didn’t seem too concerned.

"Don’t sweat it, Mari," The ringleader comforted with a pat on Marinette’s shoulder. "I’ve got it _all_ covered." She winked, and Marinette narrowed her eyes.

"That sounds suspicious," she said slowly, crossing her arms. Alya had _never_ missed a performance before, and the fact that this was the first one with someone _completely new_ made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. There was just so much that could go wrong.

Alya laughed, picking up the seamstress’ cookie and putting it into her mouth to keep her from talking further. "Don’t you trust me?" she asked, while Marinette blinked down at the cookie in her mouth. With a snap she broke it off, chewing and grumbling in response. Alya took this as agreement.

In another minute the lights went down, and a hush fell over the crowd. Alya couldn’t stop her legs from bouncing excitedly, and Mari glanced around. Most of them had seen the show before, and they knew that this was where Alya’s voice would usually boom over the audience, welcoming them to the show and giving her opening speech.

But not this time. The silence thickened, and she could hear murmured voices of concern around her. She raised an eyebrow to Alya, but her friend just shook her head and smiled. Just then, there were small gasps from the crowd as a spotlight lit up the middle of the ring.

Mari turned her attention, frowning and tilting her head slightly to get a full view of the ring. The figure was wearing Alya’s tophat and cape, but the rest of their body was hidden in shadow as they tipped their head down. She saw a cane in their hands, pressing down into the dust.

" _Ladies and Gentlemen_ ," a male voice stated, startling half of the audience and causing them to look around. It came from the speakers, but the figure in the middle hadn’t moved. Another beat, and suddenly they did.

A twirl of the cape and it flew through the air, revealing the person beneath. Black from the ground up, boots, slacks, a long sleeve tight shirt, ending in paintball type gloves. A thin choker necklace with a little golden bell. The hat was balanced on messy blonde hair, pulled back loosely by the black mask around his head. And staring out of the mask was bright, mischievous, green eyes.

" _Welcome to Cirque de Miraculous!"_ Chat’s voice boomed through the audience, and his smile was blinding. The crowd went wild over this, and Marinette found her jaw dropping again. Chat was going to be the _ringleader?_ Before she could ask Alya what the heck was going on, the new addition began to speak again, and took her attention back to the ring.

"I know, I know, you must be _so_ surprised to see me here." He paused as people laughed, since everyone was here _to_ see him. He began to walk around the ring, gesturing out towards the audience as he spoke: "But don’t worry; your lovely leading lady will return as ringleader next week. Consider me just a fill in today."

He jumped onto the border between the audience and the ring, grabbing one of the support poles and began spinning slowly around it. "Y’see, I’ve always wanted to run away and join the circus, but I could never decide what I wanted to do. I am a cat of _many_ talents, after all," he added slyly with a wink at the front row. Marinette found herself rolling her eyes.

He balanced along the edge, walking around most of the circle as he continued, "But when I found this magical place, and the talented cast, I just knew I wanted to be a part of it. Did I think things through? Of course not. But I’m here now so I have to figure _something_ out."

By this point he had wandered close enough to Marinette and Alya, and finding them in the crowd, he winked again. This time Marinette didn’t roll her eyes, and instead shouldered Alya, who just laughed. Chat smiled and spun around again, shrugging and sighing dramatically.

"So I’m just gonna wing it through the show. Is that okay with you all?" The roar of the audience was deafening, and Marinette found herself clapping as well. _How has he commanded so much attention so quickly?_ She wondered to herself. It must be something about his personality, because even she was invested.

"I told you," Alya hissed in her ear, excitement in her eyes. Marinette shook her head and turned her attention back to Chat, who had returned to the center of the ring. She had to lean slightly to see him around the tent fold.

"I won’t take up any more of your time," he said with a grin, once again raising his arms. "Enjoy your show!" With a flourish and a bow, he slammed something small down on the ground and disappeared in a puff of black and green smoke. Marinette raised her eyes as the smoke cleared, leaving Chat’s (Alya’s) hat in the middle of the space.

The crowd went wild, and it was only the beginning of the show. _Maybe this can work,_ she thought, applauding with the rest of them. She didn’t know how well he would fit in doing everything around everyone else, but maybe he would find his niche as time went on.

Throughout the performances, Chat managed to make the crowd fall in love with him, and also display just how many trades he really could do. He walked on his hands with the clowns, balancing on giant balls and flipping across the stage. He even had a footrace around the ring with Kim, moderated by Alix. He lost horribly, but the dramatics he played up when he fell on the floor was enough to make him look like a winner.

The fire eaters made Marinette nervous, though. Someone who didn’t have any experience shouldn’t be playing with fire, but Alya didn’t seem to share the same qualms. Neither did Chat, apparently, as he borrowed two of the firesticks from the professionals and began tossing them in the air. He managed decently well for only using two, and eventually tossed them both in the air to do a handstand, and then catch them upright again. He grinned cheekily, and Marinette had to sigh in relief.

When Volpina came out, Marinette knew she had to sneak in the back somehow because she was just two acts away. But her curiosity kept her glued to her seat as she watched Chat bow dramatically to the magician, who scoffed and stood on her platform. Through her tricks, Chat did his best to interact with them while not moving in too much on her skills. The audience loved him, though Lila seemed to be gritting her teeth. Marinette couldn’t help but smile; _Maybe Chat isn’t so bad after all…_

Once Volpina was done, Marinette narrowed her eyes and then leaned over to Alya. "I think I see a tear on Lila’s dress shirt, I’m gonna go back and fix it real quick," she made up the excuse quickly, but it didn’t matter. She could probably have told Alya outright _Hey I’m ladybug brb_ and her friend would have continued to be glued to the ring, nodding only slightly in response. Marinette smiled at the ease with which she managed to escape the audience, sneaking backstage and into her private room.

Sighing with her back to the curtain, she took the small gold key from around her neck and unlocked the trunk in the back, pulling out her favorite outfit for the highwire and trapeze. In a few minutes she was dressed, her hair twisted into a tight bun and her chopsticks in their proper place. With a quick look in the mirror, she nodded to herself and exited the room.

And bumped right into a figure in black. An apology was on her lips until she realized who it was, and suddenly she furrowed her brows and crossed her arms. "Were you trying to look in my room?" She asked immediately. Perhaps not the best first sentence to their newest troupe member.

Chat, however, had been facing the other way, and whipped around as soon as they had bumped. His eyes widened and he shook his head, hands up in a sign of peace. "Of course not, never, my lady!" He begged, and the sincerity in his eyes made Ladybug lower her arms and ease her tension.

"I was just waiting for you," He continued, a smile on his face, "I wanted to talk to you before your act, I had an idea…" This made Ladybug frown again, and she shook her head, taking a step towards Chat and making him take a step back. Luckily no one else was backstage at the moment, at least not this far back.

"Listen here, _chaton_ ," she said, voice low. "I work _alone_. My act is a skillset I have been cultivating since I was a child, and it is too dangerous to have someone _inexperienced_ interfering." Her finger jabbed his chest to punctuate her point, and he looked down in surprise. "This has nothing to do with you stealing the spotlight; I’m happy to share. But it could seriously injure _both_ of us, and I do not want to risk anything damaging this _cirque_. They are my family, and will always come first. Are we clear?"

He looked like he was about to say something, but the look in Ladybug’s eyes had him swallowing it back down. He nodded slowly, and she nodded back, satisfied. "Good. You show lots of promise and skill, but my act is too dangerous for anyone else."

She stepped away, walking towards the entrance to the ring, where she could hear the act before her finishing up. Pausing with her hand on the curtain, she turned back to Chat, who was staring after her and looking flabbergasted. With a small smile she added, "You are really talented, though. Welcome to the family." With that, she slipped through the curtain and left him blankly watching the space she occupied only a moment before.

Climbing the ladder as the other act moved away, she was poised at the top by the time the spotlight found her, and as usual the crowd erupted into applause. Giving them a brilliant smile, she awaited her song to begin before starting her trapeze act

She preferred to perform to instrumentals, most of the time, and Lindsey Stirling was one of her favorites. _Crystallize_ began playing through the speakers, and she put one pointed foot on the trapeze in front of her. Wrapping her fingers around the supports, she pushed off with her back foot and began gliding around on the trapeze, other let pointed behind her as the music filled her with adrenaline.

This act was one of her favorites, because it was more like dancing than slow skill. Of course balance still played a major part in it, but she could allow her movements to be more fluid and less controlled. As long as she held on to one of the supports of the trapeze, she could move however she wanted.

In her mind, it was just her and the music, the audience long forgotten below her. She moved her hips to distribute her weight and keep the trapeze swinging, leaning forwards and backwards and balancing on one leg then the other, flowing with the music like water. By the time the song ended, she had swung herself back to her starting platform, where she bowed and smiled through her heavy breathing.

The audience’s applause was louder than before, and she bowed again, glancing around and back at the exit to the changing rooms. There she saw a brilliant shade of green staring back at her, mouth slightly ajar and looking as if he just saw the most amazing thing in the world. Blushing, she tore her eyes away from him, grabbing the pulley that let her descend back to the earth.

With a final wave to the audience (who still hadn’t finished their applause), she returned back behind the scenes, where she was met with more applause and smiles from her family. Chat was in the middle of the crowd, and immediately took a step forward, causing Ladybug to blush again.

"That was _magnifique,_ " he said, voice filled with wonder. Covering her mouth and blushing, she looked anywhere but him, noticing most of the other troupe were in a circle around them. Chat took her other hand in his, bowing and kissing the back of her hand gently. His lips were soft, but she didn’t let it distract her (For more than a moment, anyway).

With a quick movement she pushed him away by the nose, smiling at the look of surprise on his face as he stared down at her finger. "Ah ah, _chaton_ ," she chided teasingly, taking her arm back and putting her hand on her cocked hip. "I can’t stick around, and neither should you. Wouldn’t want everyone finding out who we are, would we?" With a wink that made him melt, she spun around him and ducked into her changing room, tying the curtain closed behind her.

Sighing again, she quickly packed away her outfit and returned to Marinette Dupain-Cheng, hair falling gently around her shoulders free from the bun. Going back to her table, she swiped Volpina’s outfit and began fixing the imaginary tear.

Within moments Alya had burst in, glancing around before sighing dramatically, earning a giggle from Marinette. "Are you freaking _kidding me?_ " she gasped, falling on her knees in the middle of the floor and shaking her fist at the sky. "They’re _both_ gone?"

Marinette moved to kneel with her, hugging her and hiding her smile. "Aw, it’s okay," she soothed, patting the ringleader’s back. "You’ll get them eventually." Alya pouted, leaning back and crossing her arms.

"It’s not fair," she lamented, "I wanted to at _least_ tell Chat he was welcome back next week. Everyone _adored_ him." She leaned forward and whined, resting her head on Marinette’s shoulder. Hearing something, the seamstress glanced up, seeing a curtain fall and a black boot quickly moving out of sight.

With a small smile, she pat her friends shoulder again, "Oh," she said slyly, "I think he knows."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was iffy with Chat's introduction but I'm good with how it turned out. I've been really busy and have a Con coming up, so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be.
> 
> Please comment! Any Akuma you'd like to be acts? Any love square you'd like? Any other couples? 
> 
> Let me know! ♥


	4. Inch by Inch

After only a few weeks, Chat was a regular addition to the troupe.

He performed every night without fail, and the little family grew bigger by one. Everyone loved him (A mostly foreign feeling), and he was excited to see even Ladybug had grown fond (though maybe not in the way he would like). And despite the fact that he didn’t have his own act yet, he was adored by the audience time and time again.

This was how he found himself volunteering for the hypnotist act. Normally the man chose from the audience, but from the way the applause met him when he sauntered out, he didn’t think they would mind too much. Jackady had nodded eagerly, excited to have Chat in his act.

Jackady had pressed Chat down onto a seat in the middle of the ring, pulling out a hypnotist watch and a stack of cards reminiscent of a tarot deck. Having the watch dangle from his middle finger, he began swaying it back and forth, watching Chat’s emerald eyes following it.

With a snap of his fingers, Chat’s head drooped to his chest. The audience gasped, and Jackady turned to smile at them and their quiet applause. "Now," he said in a voice that was both quiet and loud simultaneously. "To have him do my bidding."

Shuffling his deck dramatically, arching it over his head and between his hands, he split the cards and one flew into the air high. With a flourish he pocketed the rest of the deck, catching the free one and showing it to the audience. It depicted a black background with the shadow of a white cat.

"Become the cat you truly are!" he cried, tapping the card to the top of the boys head. Chat’s head immediately perked up, and then he squatted down on the ground, lifting one hand in a paw and tilting his head with a _nya_ sound.

The audience applauded again, and Jackady bowed as Chat began to prowl around the ring. Sitting occasionally, he would lick at his hand and brush his hair, stretch his back out, and meow. Coos came from the audience, and Jackady took that time to pull out his watch again.

The moment it dropped from his hand, Chat’s attention zeroed in on the shiny thing. Charging over to it, he flopped on his back and began pawing at it above him. Laughter filled the ring, and even Jackady chuckled. He let the kitten play for a bit before putting him back under.

Flipping his cards again, he pulled out a monkey card and touched it lightly to the blond head. Instantly Chat jumped up, making soft noises and looking around curiously, hands hanging in front of him. Spying the acrobatic set up from Ladybug, he immediately began climbing it. The audience was thrilled, but Jackady was a little less thrilled.

His smile froze in place, and his eyes nervously searched the backstage curtain. He saw Alya’s huge golden eyes staring back, gesturing wildly up at Chat and mouthing _stop him!_ They didn’t know just how skilled Chat was, and being up there could be dangerous. One fall would mean the end of the cirque.

Returning his eyes back to Chat, his heart stopped when he realized the cat had reached the top of the trapeze and was hanging on the pole with one arm. Jackady wondered belatedly if he should make him a cat again, since they always land on their feet, but it appears luck was on his side today.

Ladybug had been the next act, and she was already on her pulley on the way up. "Now now, chaton," she spoke, voice reverberating around the tense audience. The crowd exploded when they saw her ascending, landing lightly next to the cat…monkey.

"Let’s be a bit more careful, okay?" She knew he couldn’t hear her, but he did move to wrap his arms and legs around her, causing a couple chuckles to come from the audience. With a shake of her head she grabbed the pulley and descended again, bracing herself with both hands to make up for the additional weight.

Once landed, Jackady snapped his fingers and Chat blinked, clearly back to himself. However, he had still not gotten off Ladybug. Laughing nervously, the boy climbed down and lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles, making her shake her head again and the audience to go wild.

All three bowed, then Ladybug rode the pulley back up and Chat and Jackady moved off set. Adrien’s head was a bit fuzzy from the hypnosis, but he could vividly remember what it had felt like to be wrapped around Ladybug’s torso. His face flushed, and he completely missed Alya admonishing Jackady for not being more careful.

He was sitting in a daze on the ottoman in the back, waiting for Ladybug to come out (so he could apologize? Flirt? He wasn’t sure) when Alya came over to him with disapproval on her face. Shaking his head to clear it, he stood up to meet her and began to defend his actions.

"I’m really sorry, mademoiselle, I wasn’t in control of my actions-" Alya stopped him with a hand, and he fell silent, nerves running like lightening through his body. Was this it? Was his time in the cirque so short lived because of a simple mistake?

"I’m not mad at you for that, stupid," she said with a scowl, immediately setting Adrien at ease. Though he realized she had specified _that_ , which meant she was mad at something. "I’m upset because you ruined your outfit."

Blinking in surprise, he followed her eyes down to his shirt, which was dirtied from rolling around in the sand, and had multiple little tears from his ascent. He bowed his head sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I-I can get another quickly," he tried to say, but she shook her head and held up her hand again.

"Nu uh, catboy, not risking you exposing yourself. We keep a PG show here and I’m not losing it because of your voyeurism." He gasped indignantly, but she had already turned her head towards the back of the room. He turned to follow her line of sight and realized everyone else was already packing up. _The show is over? I missed Ladybug again?_

"Marinette!" Alya called, causing a dark haired girl to yelp and stand up as if she had been caught with her hand in the cookiejar. She had been walking from the back, where he knew the changing rooms were. Vaguely he remembered that she was the seamstress, and everyone talked very highly of her.

"Y-yes?" she replied, hands fiddling in front of her. Chat thought it was endearing, but wondered what had made her so nervous. She wouldn’t look at him, as if something he had done is what caused it. _Did I already make a bad impression?_

"You’ve been drawing designs for a costume for Chat, right?" Alya asked, hands on her hips. Chat blinked, surprised, and Marinette blushed lightly.

"Ah…a bit, nothing more than doodles, really," she said, hands in front of her apologetically. Alya put her hand on her friends shoulder, smiling encouragingly.

"Girl, don’t even front, I _know_ you’ve been watching his acts to figure out what would work best." Whirling on Adrien, she ignored Marinette’s blushed stuttering. "You know her stuff is incredible, right? She’s made every outfit in the cirque, even _Ladybugs_."

Chat’s mouth hung open, looking at Marinette in awe. She was very red now, and even more nervous, which he assumed was because of the praise. "You are _incredible_ , Marinette," he breathed, moving up to her and taking her hands in his own.

That seemed to calm her down a little bit, and she looked up at him bashfully, blue eyes blinking through her lashes. "Really?" she asked, sounding a little bit more confident. Chat nodded emphatically, and neither of them saw Alya watching them thoughtfully from the side, a sly smile on her face.

"Definitely!" Chat agreed, taking a step back and bowing grandly. "I would be honored to have you make my costume, mademoiselle Marinette," he said dramatically, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. She rolled her eyes, but there was a good natured smile on her lips.

"Wellllllll then," Alya said with a smirk, throwing her arms around both of their shoulders. "If _Mademoiselle Marinette_ wants to make it, she’ll have to take your measurements." Chat wasn’t bothered by this; he had his measurements taken all the time as a model. But Marinette seemed to have regressed to her blushing state.

"Okay, that’s fine," Chat said with a grin, turning back to Marinette and tilting his head slightly to catch her eye. "Are you okay with that?" She blinked, then nodded, standing up straight again.

"Of course, you aren’t the first person I’ve measured for the circus," she said, suddenly filled with confidence. With a light tap on his nose, she added, "Juts make sure to keep this mask on. Wouldn’t want your identity getting out so quickly."

Chat’s eyes watched her finger, and he realized why the measuring idea had made her such a mess. _Of course! If she sees me without my outfit, she could figure out who I am. She’s so considerate._ Alya looked like she was holding back laugher, but he didn’t know why.

"Can you come tomorrow around lunchtime?" He realized Marinette was talking to him, and he forced himself to focus on her again. "We can use Ladybug’s changing room, she doesn’t come until the show already starts to avoid people seeing her and she lets me use it for costume fixes."

Chat nodded again, excited at the idea of seeing Ladybug’s hidden room. Not that it was really hidden since apparently Marinette measured everyone there, but still. It was new to him, and he was excited. "I can bring lunch for us!" he said happily, planning out where to go before hand. It was Sunday, so he had nothing to do before the performance.

Marinette looked like she was about to protest, then changed her mind, booping him on the nose again. "I like Chinese," she said, turning to pick up her sketchbook and pack her backpack. With a little wave she left the tent, apparently to head home before they met tomorrow.

"Ohoho man," Alya breathed, wiping a tear from her eye and slinging her arm around Chat’s shoulder again. "This is gonna be so good." Adrien didn’t understand what she meant, but he found himself agreeing with her.

"It really is."

 

* * *

　

The next day, Adrien had eaten breakfast with his father quickly and then gave him an excuse about going to meet Chloe for lunch. While his father seemed confused that Adrien was more eager than usual, he nodded and waved his hand, dismissing the boy from the table.

He took the steps to his room two at a time and packed a small bag to bring with him: two water bottles, some junk food he kept in his room, an extra charger for his phone, and a small notebook and pen. His mask he tucked into a zipper pouch in the front, for easy access. He also wore regular clothes to keep from being suspicious: a simple black hoodie and dark jeans, hiding his figure. He pulled the hood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, leaving the mansion without a backwards glance.

As he walked, he kept pushing his backpack higher on his shoulder, since the weight kept making it slip down. _Did I bring too much?_ He wondered, entering a little Chinese shop by the cirque and glancing at a menu. He didn’t really know what to get for Marinette, so he just ordered a few simple dishes and paid with cash from his pocket. He wasn’t sure what would happen if his dad saw his card charged to a place like this.

Hefting the bag of food and adjusting his backpack again, he walked until he could see the park where the tent was permanently set. Glancing around and finding it deserted, he ducked behind a tree and pulled down his hood, tying the mask around his eyes tightly. If it fell off, he would be in trouble. With a lot of people.

Again lifting his things, he pushed past the back entrance and glanced around, marveling at how different it felt when there was no one back there. It was almost like going into an empty church, and he found himself wondering if he should kneel. As he stood there, Marinette came from the back, tucking something under her shirt and jumping when she realized he was there.

"Chat!" She said, startled and holding her hand over her chest. "I didn’t think you’d be here this early." Her eyes fell to the large brown bag of food, and her hands immediately went to her hips. "Please tell me you didn’t order the whole menu," she said hopefully.

Grinning, he held up his back. "Not the _whole_ menu," he promised. "But you didn’t tell me what you wanted, so I got a lot." She sighed, shaking her pigtails, and he decided he liked when she wasn’t nervous around him.

Turning, Marinette waved over her shoulder and said, "C’mon," leading him to the back room where Ladybug changed and apparently Marinette worked. Once inside, it wasn’t what he expected. There were comfortable rugs all over the floor, ornate and probably antique, along with a scattering of soft pillows. There was a desk to one side, a large wardrobe next to it, and on the floor to the side of that was a chest.

It was large, big enough to fit a couple outfits, and was a dark red with black spots, trimmed in gold. He realized that was probably where Ladybug had her clothes, and he found himself reaching towards it reverently.

"Don’t touch that!" He jumped when Marinette yelled, catching him by surprise. Turning, she looked embarrassed at her outburst, but continued, "Sorry, it’s just, that’s Ladybug’s, obviously, and she doesn’t want anyone touching it. It’s locked with a special key only she has, so no one comes in and tries to take it."

Chat looked back to it and nodded, taking a step back. "Sorry," he mumbled, moving over to the desk and placing the food bag down. He placed his backpack on the floor, then moved to the middle of the room, throwing his arms out wide. "How do you want me?" he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Marinette laughed, a soft sound he wanted to hear more, and then leaned over her desk to find something. "Just like that is fine," she said over her shoulder, grabbing a long tape measurer, a pencil, and a small notebook. She brought them over to him, placing the notebook on the ground and the pencil between her lips.

"Don’t move," she said around the pencil, a look of concentration on her face as she began measuring him. He considered making a snarky response, but the seriousness of her expression mollified him. Instead, he spent the time watching her, fascinated.

The girl’s eyes roved over his body much like others had during his years modeling, but there was a spark there he never saw in others. It was as if she could see all the possibilities in front of her eyes, and narrowed them down as she worked. Her nose scrunched up cutely when she didn’t like something she saw, and she always measured twice, both sides symmetrically. He realized he probably could have just offered to give her his measurements, but something told him Marinette was the kind of person to want to do things herself.

She continued to measure, occasionally leaning down to write a number down on the paper before putting the pencil back between her lips. As she came back to the top, measuring around his head for what he thought might be another mask, he became distracted with how close their faces were. Swallowing, he began counting her freckles to keep his thoughts in check. He was at fourty-two when she moved back, a pleased smile on her face.

"All done," she chirped, writing the last of the numbers down and tossing her notebook on the desk. Grabbing the food, she sat down in the middle of the pillows and patted the space across from her. Shaking out of his thoughts, Chat joined her, sitting cross legged across from her and watching her open the food.

Her face lit up as she saw what he got, and she pulled out plates and chopsticks from the bag, laying out the food in between them like a buffet. She loaded up her plate and passed him his own, and he began picking out some things for himself. Leaning over, he unzipped his bag and pulled out the water, handing one to Marinette, who smiled in return.

Taking a bite, she closed her eyes and made a soft noise of pleasure. "This is so good," she mumbled around the food, swallowing before continuing, "I know this is the fake stuff, maman would kill me if she knew how much I like it, but I just can’t help it." Chat grinned, wondering what her mother was like, if she had been like his own.

A few minutes into eating, she pulled over her sketchbook and began flipping through the pages, showing him the ones she’s sketched out. His eyes widened at the incredible designs, and he looked up at her to realize she wanted to know what he thought. As if his opinion mattered; something he never got to do in modeling.

"They’re all incredible," he breathed, earning a soft blush from her as she put another piece of chicken in her mouth. "But," he added, causing her chewing to slow down and her brows to furrow, "This one is my favorite." She leaned over to see which one he had pointed out.

It was sleek, but still masculine. Simple black pants were tucked into thick black boots, and the shirt was dark green with long sleeves and a black vest. There were gloves that came up halfway to his elbow, not bulky like the ones he had before, and with small claws on the end for grip. A black and silver belt encircled his waist with the excess hanging behind him like a tail, and a black bowtie with a little golden bell hung from his throat.

But his favorite part was the headpiece. It had the mask that tied around the back, similar to the one he was using now, but it also had a third piece that hid beneath his hair that placed small black fabric cat ears on top of his head. Not only was it aesthetically pleasing, but it would help to keep his mask from slipping, a constant worry on his mind.

"You like it then?" she asked, smiling up at him. The look on his face must have been answer enough, because she continued, "It was my favorite too, I’m really looking forward to making it. I already picked out some of the fabric, though it was a little more expensive to make sure it was tear resistant…"

Chat frowned, tilting his head. "I’ll be paying for my own materials, won’t I?" he asked honestly. He had plenty from his job and allowance from when he was a kid, and he didn’t want to take any money from the cirque, especially not from the girl who relies on it for her livelihood.

She looked ready to protest but he tapped her nose this time, causing her to look down at his finger. "No, I’m definitely paying for my own stuff. Consider it part of my gift to the circus." She could tell he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and she sighed again, leaning back and going back to her food.

They sat for a few minutes, finishing up their food and chatting easily about nothing in particular. After a moment he noticed Marinette was staring at the corner of the room, and he tilted his head to get her attention. "Marinette?"

She had the water bottle halfway to her mouth, but she placed it back down, addressing him without moving her sight. "Why is your bag moving?" His brows furrowed and he turned, unsure what she could be talking about.

That was when a little black head popped its way out of the bag, and he saw his traitorous cat climbing out and stretching. He must have slipped in when Adrien had his back turned, and had been napping happily at the bottom.

"Plagg!" Chat hissed, reaching over to scoop up the cat, who easily darted around his hand. "You lazy cat, no wonder my bag was so heavy, I am so sorry Marinette I hope you aren’t allergic…." He paused in his glare at the cat to look at Marinette, who had dissolved in a fit of giggles.

"N-no, I’m n-not," she gasped between her laughter, one hand on her chest and the other on the floor behind her to keep her from falling over. She watched as Plagg moved towards them, smiling and pushing him a little piece of chicken. He swatted at it before munching down, causing another giggle.

"Fat, lazy cat," Chat amended grumpily, crossing his arms and looking down at the cat who personally offended him. Marinette cooed and scooped him up to hold, scratching under his neck and causing him to purr. The sight melted Adrien’s heart, and he relaxed his posture a little bit.

After watching her for a few minutes, he asked, "Do you have a cat? You seem to be really good with him." Plagg still had his claws, but Marinette hadn’t gotten scratched even accidentally. She shook her head, focus still on the little ball of fluff.

"No, can’t have anything that sheds in the bakery so I never got one," she said honestly. "My parents own the bakery around the corner and the stall out front, so growing up I never could get a fuzzy buddy." Chat blinked, realizing the short pleasant woman who always gave him cookies was her mom. _What a lovely family_.

"I do, however, have a parrot," she added, smiling. "A macaw actually. She’s red with black flecks and her name is Tikki. My parents felt bad I couldn’t have a pet, so they thought they’d get me a bird just until I moved out on my own. Of course, they didn’t realize they bought me a bird that can live for _eighty_ _years_." She laughed that soft laugh again, and Adrien’s heart melted further. "So she’s my best friend, aside from Alya."

"I’d love to meet her sometime," he said honestly, giving another look to Plagg, who blinked slowly up at him with his green eyes. "Next time, I’ll make sure he stays home." Marinette giggled again, passing Plagg to Chat’s lap.

"Oh, I don’t mind," she said happily. "No one in the cirque is allergic, and most of the show I don’t have anything to do. If I do, he would be safe just hanging back here." She scratched his head again, and his purr vibrated through Chat’s chest.

"Okay," he agreed automatically, not considering any issue that might arise. Plagg was a little shithead, but Marinette seemed to have his tail curled around her finger. He wouldn’t do anything bad around here. He hoped.

"Oh! Fortune cookies!" Marinette cheered, picking up the one furthest away from her. "Papa says its bad luck to take the one in front of you," she added as means of explanation. Marinette cracked hers open as Chat reached for his own, careful not to displace the now sleeping cat in his lap.

" _Your luck brings joy to all_ , oh that’s a nice one," she says happily, grabbing her sketchbook and tucking it in the back of it. Looking at him expectantly, she waited as he opened his own. Swallowing, he read the lines twice before saying them to make sure he didn’t mess anything up.

" _A whole new world of opportunities waits right in front of you_ ," he read, glancing up at Marinette. She looked thrilled, hands clasped in her lap and smiling at him in a way that reminded him of his mother.

"That’s a good one too!" she said, and Chat’s face warmed, unable to do anything but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Marichat maaaay good timing on this one. 
> 
> Okay so first point, I cannot BELIEVE how insanely my other fic blew up. It’s Mission: Impawsible, and is much MUCH different than this one. But don’t worry, I will not be dropping this one :>
> 
> Second point, it took me awhile to compose this fic because I have stuff I want to happen in chats chapters, but if I did it now it would take us to endgame too soon. So I had to come up with more filler. Which I did! 
> 
> Third point: I went with Jackady because now I know why! Per the miraculous wiki:  
> In French, Simon's name is Jacques Grimault because the phrase "Jacques à dit" (basically pronounced Jackady) is the French version of the phrase "Simon Says".[5] 
> 
> Comments, kudos, and suggestions appreciated! ♥


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